Golden Spiral vol. 2 (1-50)

THE GOLDEN SP RAL

By: Ali and Avery Sellers

Imagine the history of a fairy-tale, like a tattered map, crumpled and flattened, twisted and turned, passed down from generation to generation. Now, look beyond the faded ink and several more features of the scene will begin to grow clear. If you look hard enough, your eye will catch the many unexplored corners and much-uncharted terrain. The fact is, this map can never be lost or forgotten. Ultimately, fairy-tales will never go extinct because they help us make sense of what it is to be human and understand the world around us. We can connect them to our dreams, anxieties, and most importantly our imaginations.

But why are we still drawn to these classic tales? The truth is, fairytales remain universal because they clearly show that you can personally alter something in your destiny. In almost all fairy-tales, the hero has to be active in some way for their fate to change. Even with these unified themes in mind, individual elements have been tweaked. Fairy-tales have evolved from horror-filled narratives to the clichéd versions of a “happily-ever-after”. It is these exact alterations that have allowed these vintage tales to live on. For this reason, we challenged our school to reimagine and rethink classic fairy-tales in order to carry these revolving morals to current and future generations.

The Fo

by: Jos

The Cape as Red as Blood

by: Elis Mosteller

Letter to Sheriff

by: Wesley Wilson

Attention to Big Bad Wolf

by: Christopher Watts

What is a Name to a Title?

by: Grant Daniels

Unspoken Embers

by: Connor Haley Star

by: Lavai Manus

C O N T E N T S

Rapunzel Poem

by: Addison Lloyd

Raflynn

by: Genesis Arias-Ortez

Sleeping Beauty Who Never Wakes

by: Isabelle Esslinger

Setting the Record Straight

by: Grace Reid

Snow White

by: Emily Whipple

Fairy Tales: What Are They Really Teaching?

Luke Stembridge

Why We Need More Parables, and Less Fairy-Tales

Audrey Browning

The Folly of Divinity

Story By: Joshua Johnson

illustrations by: Aidan Honeycutt

Translation by: John Van-Valen

There was once a man who lived a very successful and fulfilling life. He was part of a happy family and claimed ownership of several successful business ventures, including many plants that sorted and processed scrap metal. In one of his weekly visits to his scrap plants, something caught his eye. It was a golden lamp, gleaming in the glorious beams of crisp sunlight.

The man salvaged this item from the scrap yard and brought it home with him. He found a perfect place to display the beautiful decorative item, and it fit perfectly in his living room. One day, the lamp had become dusty. The man took a rag and some cleaning spray and went to clean the lamp, hoping to restore its resplendent golden aura that dazzled his house guests. While rubbing the lamp with his rag, a strange purple smoke began to seep out of the lamp. The smoke clouded the man’s vision and it continued to pour out of the golden lamp. The smoke gathered on the floor, coating the ground in a mesmerizing purple haze. The smoke began to swirl and mix together, forming a smoky entity. As the clouds of brilliant haze cleared, a great genie appeared before the man.

Once the genie had materialized in front of the man, it thanked the man for freeing it from its century-long imprisonment. It then offered the man three wishes.

“Whatever you can dream up, I can make it a reality. No matter how far-fetched or foreign the wish could be,” the genie informed the man.

Érase una vez un hombre quien vivió una vida muy exitosa y llena, siendo parte de una familia muy feliz y siendo dueño de varios negocios exitosos, muchos de los cuales eran industrias de desecho, que albergaban muchos talleres que clasificaban y procesaban el desecho metálico. En una de sus visitas semanales a uno de sus talleres de chatarra, encontró algo que le llamó la atención. Era una lámpara dorada que brillaba con los gloriosos rayos de la luz del sol.

El hombre rescató este artículo del sitio de desechos metálicos y lo llevó a su casa consigo mismo. En su sala, él encontró el lugar perfecto para hacer lucir este hermoso articulo decorativo. Encajó perfectamente en su sala. Un día, la lámpara se veía cubierta de polvo, entonces el hombre tomó un trapo y líquido de limpieza y fue a limpiar la lámpara, para que pueda continuar impresionando a todos los invitados a su casa con su aura dorada resplandeciente. Mientras él frotaba la lámpara con su trapo, un humo raro y púrpura empezó a salir de la lámpara. Este humo nubló su visión y siguió saliendo de la lámpara dorada. El humo se reunió en el piso, cubriéndolo en una fascinante neblina púrpura. El humo empezó a girar y mezclarse, formando lo que parecía como una entidad hecha de humo. Cuando las nubes de neblina brillante se despejaron, un genio magnífico apareció delante del hombre.

En cuanto el genio se materializó, dio gracias al hombre por liberarlo de su encarcelación de cien años. El genio le ofreció tres deseos.

“Cualquier cosa que puedes imaginar, yo puedo hacer realidad, sin importar cuán imposible o extraño sea el deseo, “el genio informó al hombre.

The man grew excited; he could have three of anything he could imagine. He could finally accomplish so many of his long failed endeavors and dreams. All these things could finally come into fruition.

“I want to be friends with anyone and everyone in the world,” the man said. The genie crossed his arms and blinked his eyes, and it was so.

The man awoke the next day and checked his phone. He had an overload of text messages and emails from various people, including ones he had never met. He had messages from celebrities wishing him good morning, asking him various questions, and wondering if the man would be free for lunch. The man was overcome with joy; he was friends with everyone on Earth! Everyone loved him and wanted to talk to him. He could finally reunite with his divorced wife and his kids that were taken away from him. He could finally be back on good terms with the people he had double crossed while gaining his fortune. He got out of bed and walked into his kitchen, made himself a bowl of cereal, and turned on the news. As he did, he was overwhelmed with happiness as he watched every channel wishing him a happy birthday. The man couldn’t believe he had forgotten what today was his birthday. One channel cut into the morning traffic report to show the president delivering a poem about how loved and cared for the man was. Tears were brought to his eyes as he witnessed the love and support of everyone in the world.

El hombre se entusiasmó sabiendo que podía tener tres cosas de lo que sea que podría imaginar. Finalmente, él podría alcanzar sus sueños y planes fallidos, todas estas cosas podrían llegar a pasar. Por su primer deseo, el hombre deseó poder ser amigo de toda la gente en el mundo. Y en el momento que lo deseó, así fue.

El hombre despertó la mañana siguiente y revisó su teléfono celular. El vio que había recibido un exceso de mensajes de texto y correos electrónicos de varias personas, incluso de algunas que nunca había conocido. Vió mensajes de celebridades que le deseaban un buen día, haciéndole muchas preguntas, incluyendo si él tenía un poco de tiempo libre para almorzar con ellos. El hombre estaba rendido por la inmensa alegría. ¡Él realmente era amigo de todos en la Tierra! Todos le amaban y querían hablar con él. Finalmente pudo reunirse con su esposa, quien se había divorciado de él, y con sus hijos. Finalmente podría estar en términos buenos con la gente que él había traicionado para obtener sus bienes materiales. Se levantó de su cama y fue a su cocina, mirando las noticias mientras comía cereal. Cuando hizo esto, tuvo un enorme sentido de felicidad al ver que todos los canales en la televisión mostraban mensajes deseándole un feliz cumpleaños. ¡El hombre no pudo creer que se había olvidado que hoy era su cumpleaños! Un canal hasta hizo una pausa en su reportaje del tráfico para mostrar al presidente leyendo una poesía sobre cuán querido era el hombre. Lágrimas caían de sus ojos mientras él observaba cuanto el mundo le amaba y apoyaba.

For the next few months, the man enjoyed himself more than he ever thought possible. He attended the parties of numerous celebrities, had dinner with the owners of incredibly powerful companies, and was greeted by everyone anywhere he went. He spent a lot of time with his ex-wife and kids, but he did not remarry her. The role of his wife was reserved for an extremely popular, beautiful woman. His previous wife didn’t mind, since she and everyone loved and supported him in whatever he did.

One day, as the man was lying in bed and taking in his newfound happiness, the genie appeared before him. The genie reminded the man that he still had two wishes left, and the man got excited once more. He did not hesitate, for he already knew what he wanted.

“I wish to be the wealthiest man alive,” he told the genie. The genie crossed his arms and blinked his eyes, and it was so.

The next day, people all around the world awoke from their slumbers just as they had before. Some tended to their daily routines: eating breakfast, brushing their teeth, and watching the morning shows. Some checked their wallets and others visited the bank to withdraw or deposit money. One individual broke numerous traffic laws as they sped towards the bank. They planned on withdrawing the money that they had been saving for many years, money that was set aside for college but was now needed to pay for the medical treatment of their sick son.

Durante los siguientes meses, el hombre se divirtió mucho más de lo que pensó que fuera posible. Él asistió a las fiestas organizadas por numerosas celebridades, cenó con los dueños de empresas poderosas, fue recibido con gusto a donde sea que iba. Compartió mucho tiempo con sus hijos y con su ex-esposa, pero no se casó con ella de nuevo. El papel de esposa estaba reservado para una mujer muy popular y bella. Su ex-esposa no se molestó, ya que ella y toda la otra gente le amaba y apoyaba al hombre sin importar lo que haga.

Un día mientras el hombre estaba descansando en su cama, disfrutando de su nueva felicidad, el genio apareció delante él. El genio le recordó al hombre que todavía le quedaban dos deseos, entonces el hombre se entusiasmó de nuevo. Él no vaciló como antes, ya sabía lo que quería.

“Yo quiero ser el hombre más rico del mundo,” él dijo al genio. El genio cruzó sus brazos y parpadeó sus ojos, y lo hizo así.

El próximo día, la gente por todo el mundo despertó de su sueño con normalidad. Algunos andaban en sus actividades diarias, desayunando, cepillando sus dientes, y mirando programas de televisión de la mañana. Algunos chequearon sus billeteras, otros fueron al banco a depositar o retirar dinero. Esa mañana, un individuo infringió muchas leyes de conducción mientras manejaba a alta velocidad hacia el banco. Esta persona planeaba retirar el dinero que estaba ahorrando por años con fines de dar una educación universitaria, pero que ahora tenía que ser usado para pagar el tratamiento médico de su hijo, quien estaba gravemente enfermo.

They greeted the receptionist and requested to withdraw the money from their account. The lady at the desk shook her head and told him that there was no more money in their account. All of the banks around the world, in an unprecedented move, had moved every cent of money into one man’s account. All of the money in general circulation had vanished overnight. The man was distraught; he couldn’t understand why all of his hard earned money had been moved. When the man said he wanted to make a claim to retrieve the money, the receptionist told him that a mysterious force prevented them from taking the money back. The man was horrified. He wondered if his son would succumb to the illness because he could not pay. All of his hard earned money that was going to be the salvation of his mortally ill child was moved. No. It had been stolen. The man was beginning to make a scene at the bank, when suddenly the fear and sadness vanished. The bank manager had just read the name on the account that the money was moved to and the man was filled with warm feelings. He was no longer sad, or angry. He loved the friendly man and knew that the friendly man would never wrong him. Miles away, a suffering boy laid in his hospital bed. The boy’s breathing turned to a wheeze, his time running out. As the light began to fade from his eyes, he was filled with one last image and he felt at peace. The friendly man told him it was ok to let go.

Saludó a la recepcionista y pidió retirar el dinero de su cuenta. Ella sacudió su cabeza y le dijo que no había ningún dinero en su cuenta. Por alguna extraña razón, todos los bancos alrededor del mundo habían decidido transferir todo el dinero de otras personas a la cuenta de un solo hombre. Además, todo el efectivo en circulación había desaparecido durante la noche. El hombre estaba perplejo; no podía entender porque todo su dinero, ganado después de trabajar tan fuerte y duro, había sido transferido.

Cuando la persona dijo que quería reclamar su dinero, la recepcionista le dijo que una fuerza misteriosa le impidió hacerlo cuando trataba de recuperar el dinero. La persona estaba horrorizada. ¿Su hijo sucumbiría a la enfermedad por no poder pagar? Todo este dinero duramente ganado que iba a salvar a su hijo de una enfermedad fatal había sido transferido. No, había sido robado de su cuenta. La persona empezó a hacer un escándalo en el banco cuando de repente, el temor y la tristeza desaparecieron.

El director del banco justo había acabado de leer el nombre del dueño de la cuenta adonde fue transferido el dinero, y la persona se llenó de sentimientos agradables. Y ya no se sentía triste, ni enojado, ¿cómo podía sentirse así? ¿Todos amaban al hombre amigable, como sería posible que él le lastime? Muchas millas distantes de allí, un niño estaba sufriendo, echado en su cama en un hospital. El empezó a tener problemas con su respiración, su tiempo llegando a un final.

Mientras la luz se desvanecía de sus ojos, apareció una última imagen que le brindó paz. El hombre amigable le dijo que, al desprenderse de la vida, todo estaría bien

The man was living his best life; he was friends with everyone in the world, and all of the money in the world belonged to him. He had thousands of people over at his unfathomably mansion every night, since everyone on earth no longer had enough money to keep up the rent on their houses. The man was happy to house everyone, since he now owned over thirty thousand mansions that spread across all fifty states. There was no more world hunger or global conflict, since the man provided massive feasts to anyone and everyone within his mansions. And since everyone in the world lived under the same houses and all shared a love of the man, they all stopped fighting when he asked them to. The world was a better place. All struggles and strife were null in the face of the unifying power of the man.

One day, as the man was enjoying a nap in his elegant quarters filled with expensive velvet sheets and gold covered tiling, the genie appeared before him once again. The man jumped out of bed, ecstatic for the return of the genie. The man began to wish, even before the genie started talking. He had been mulling over what to choose as his final wish for many months, and finally landed on the perfect wish.

“For my final wish,” the man began, “I want one simple thing. I know it will bring me happiness and allow me to enjoy this perfect world I have created. I wished to enjoy the friendship of the world. I wish to enjoy my infinite wealth forever. I wish to never die.”

El hombre estaba viviendo la mejor vida que podría vivir. Se volvió amigo de todos en el mundo y poseía todo el dinero en el mundo. Siempre había miles de personas visitando su enorme mansión, en parte porque nadie podía pagar su alquiler por no tener dinero. El hombre felizmente daba hogar a mucha gente, ya que era dueño de treinta mil mansiones en los cincuenta estados de los Estados Unidos. Ya no existía hambre o conflicto desde que el hombre proveía banquetes a cualquier persona que entraba en sus mansiones. Como todos ahora vivían bajo el mismo techo y compartían un amor por el hombre, dejaron de pelearse cuando él les pidió que parasen. El mundo era mejor ahora, todas las luchas y rivalidades quedaron nulas con la amistad abrumadora que se presentaba en la presencia del hombre amigable.

Un día, mientras el hombre disfrutaba de una siesta en su elegante vivienda con sábanas de terciopelo y azulejos cubiertos en oro, el genio apareció ante él otra vez. El hombre salió de su cama con un salto, estático por el regreso del genio. El hombre ya había comenzado a decir su deseo antes que el genio pudiera hablar, porque él había estado reflexionando por varios meses sobre que escoger como su último deseo. Finalmente, encontró el deseo perfecto. “Por mi último deseo,” comenzó a decir el hombre, “quiero una sola cosa sencilla. Yo sé que me brindará felicidad y me dejará disfrutar este mundo perfecto que he creado. Yo deseo poder ser amigo de todos para siempre y poder disfrutar de mi riqueza infinita para siempre. Deseo nunca jamás morir.”

The genie crossed his arms and blinked his eyes, and it was so. After making the wish, the man’s life became very quick. Days flew by like seconds, weeks like minutes, and years like hours. Time became unshackled to the man. It was something that he watched and perceived from a distance, not something that had control of him. His life became even better. He was able to live a life of happiness without having to worry about aging. His life became completely stress free. He felt as if he had become a god. He would soon learn that even gods must face the repercussions of their decisions.

Years passed and the world grew old, while the man could only watch. Years ago, the man had been carefree and happy, but this was a new day. On this day the man knelt on the ground, clutching his daughter’s lifeless body in his hands. Rain poured down around him and he lamented what had happened. He and his daughter were out for a walk in the park. It was a drearier day than most, with rain coating the sky in a bleak, gray mask. As they were walking together in the park, his daughter spotted something in the distance. It was an ice cream truck, about to close its window and cease its rounds. His daughter turned to him and told him that she would run ahead and try to stop the truck and buy them both ice cream. The man nodded, excited to see her excited. His daughter skipped ahead, picking up the pace as the truck driver began to climb back into the ice cream truck. But the rain was hard that day, and the smooth stone that dotted the park walkway was known to become extremely slick.

El genio cruzó sus brazos y parpadeó sus ojos, y lo hizo así. Después de hacer este deseo, la vida del hombre pasó muy rápidamente. Días le parecían segundos, semanas parecían minutos, y años parecían horas. El tiempo se desencadenó para el hombre. Era algo que él observó y percibió desde una distancia, no algo que tuvo control sobre él. Su vida se volvió aún mejor porque podía vivir una vida llena de alegría sin preocuparse de envejecer. Su vida ahora estaba libre de todo estrés, era como si fuera un dios. Pronto él aprendería que algunas veces hasta los dioses tienen que enfrentar las repercusiones de sus decisiones.

Los años pasaron y el mundo envejeció mientras el hombre solo pudo observar. Hace años, el hombre había estado feliz y sin preocupaciones. Pero hoy era un día drásticamente diferente. En ese día el hombre se arrodilló en el suelo, agarrando en sus brazos el cuerpo sin vida de su hija. Mientras la lluvia caía por todo su alrededor, lamentaba lo que había pasado. Él y su hija habían estado caminando en el parque. Era un día más triste que muchos, con lluvia cubriendo el cielo como una máscara gris. Mientras caminaban, su hija vio algo en la distancia. Era un camión de helados, a punto de cerrar sus ventanas y cesar sus rondas. Su hija le miró y dijo que iba a correr y tratar de hacer parar el camión para poder comprar helados para los dos. El hombre consintió porque estaba entusiasmado de ver su hija entusiasmada. Ella se adelantó con saltos, yendo más rápido al ver que el conductor estaba entrando al camión. Pero la lluvia era fuerte y la piedra lisa que formaba parte del camino del parque se volvió muy resbalosa.

As she was running, her foot slipped on the smooth stone. The man was too far away from her and could only watch in horror as his daughter smashed her head on a nearby bench.

He ran to her, but it was already too late. The life was snatched from her as soon as she made contact with the stone bench. The man could only clutch her body and cry. He was thirty-two years old and it felt odd to hold his forty-five year old daughter's body like this.

Months passed and many people visited him, trying to comfort him. No one could get through to him. The words rang hollow to him, even though they all claimed to care about him and would be there for him. The words meant nothing to him, even though he was everyone’s best friend. After all they weren’t his friends by choice, but by a change in reality. As the decades passed, those who had their existences altered to be his friends all died off. The family he grew up with, both of his wives, and all the strangers he met in those first few years all passed on without him.

When the end came, he watched as every living thing in the world left him behind. Eventually, he watched as the sun and other planets withered and died. All light left the world and it became a very dark and cold place. The man had hoped that this would bring the end for him, finally, but he persisted.

Mientras ella corría, se resbaló en una piedra. El hombre estaba demasiado lejos de ella y no pudo hacer nada excepto mirar en horror mientras su hija partió su cráneo en un banco cercano. Él corrió hacia ella, pero ya era demasiado tarde. Su vida de ella fue tomada en el momento que su cabeza hizo contacto con el banco de piedra. El hombre solamente pudo abrazar su cuerpo y llorar. Él tenía 32 años, y se sintió muy extraño agarrando el cuerpo de su hija, porque ella tenía 45.

Meses pasaron. Mucha gente le visitó y trató de consolarlo. Nadie podía hacerle entender. Las palabras le parecían vacías, aunque todos decían que se preocupaban de él. Esto no significaba nada para él, aunque era el mejor amigo de todos. Por lo tanto, no eran sus amigos por elección, eran sus amigos por un cambio de la realidad. Décadas pasaron. Todos los que se habían vuelto sus amigos eventualmente fallecieron. La familia que le crió, la esposa que perdió y la esposa que ganó, y todos los extraños que él había conocido en esos primeros años fallecieron y le dejaron solo.

Cuando vino el final, él miró mientras cada ser viviente en el mundo le dejó solo. Eventualmente, él observó como el sol y otros planetas se marchitaron y murieron. Toda la luz se fue del mundo y se volvió un lugar muy oscuro y frío. El hombre deseo que esto traería el final para él, finalmente, pero él persistiría.

After an unfathomable amount of years of stagnation within the decay of the universe, something finally happened. The dark sky suddenly ran red and shockwaves of celestial explosions ricocheted throughout the cosmos. The man looked on to witness the destruction of the universe. He stood up from the spot that he had been sitting at for longer than he could remember, and he watched as the concept of reality began to end. Astral bodies flew out of orbit and collided together, causing vast displays of purple and red explosions that painted the sky. Asteroid belts flew out of balance, causing stars and planets to be hit by barrages of flaming meteors. Gravity flew out of balance and caused the planets and stars to fly around in a dance of finality. Time began to warp; the concept of space shattered. Every fundamental part of reality began to deteriorate and crumble to dust. And through all of this, the man simply stood and watched.

fter the final star blew out and the final planet imploded, the universe ended. All that remained was a vast vortex of emptiness, and a lone man. He once again remained stagnant within the boundless void, and he felt nothing. All that made him human once before, had faded away.

He was now only a sentient husk within the vast emptiness. Waiting, hoping, and praying for a release. But unfortunately, it was all in vain.

Después de una cantidad insondable de años de estancamiento dentro de la descomposición del universo, algo finalmente pasó. El cielo oscuro de repente se volvió rojo y olas de explosiones celestiales rebotaron por todo el cosmos. El hombre fué testigo de la destrucción del universo. Se levantó del lugar en donde había estado sentado por un tiempo inconmensurable y vio cómo el concepto de la realidad llegó a un final. Objetos astrales salieron de sus órbitas y se chocaron, causando enormes muestras de explosiones rojas y moradas que pintaron el cielo. Cinturones de asteroides salieron de balance, causando que estrellas y planetas sean golpeados por lluvias de meteoros en llamas. La gravedad también salió de balance, haciendo que las estrellas y planetas vuelen en un baile de finalidad. El tiempo comenzó a deformarse; el concepto del espacio destrozado. Cada componente de la realidad comenzó a deteriorarse y desmoronarse a polvo. Durante todo esto, el hombre simplemente se quedó ahí parado, mirando.

Cuando la última estrella se apagó, después que el último planeta se implosionó, el universo se acabó. Todo lo que quedaba era un gran torbellino de vacío y un hombre solitario. Una vez más se quedó estancado en el vacío ilimitado y no sintió nada.

Todo lo que una vez le hizo humano, ahora se desvaneció. Ahora él era solamente una cáscara sensible dentro del gran vacío. Esperando, deseando, y rezando para ser librado. Pero desafortunadamente, fue todo en vano.

The cape as red as blood

Story and illustrations by: Elis

Mosteller

Translation by: Jayro Lopez-Funez

I can’t stay here. No one is safe while I remain. To the woods, to grandmother. She can help you, she can hide you. She can save you.

Mother and Father are ignorant, and I have no mind to tell them. I’ll leave at midnight, head for the woods. Maybe one day I will return when it is safe. But not yet. They will have to go on without me.

Mother kisses my head and closes the door behind her softly, whispering, “Goodnight, baby girl.”

“Goodnight, mother.” I whisper as her footsteps fade, tears stinging my eyes. But I shake the pain away. I’m doing this to protect them.

They couldn’t save me, but I can save them.

I glance up at the darkening sky- the sun will soon set. I must make haste.

INo me puedo quedar aquí. Mientras yo esté solo, nadie está a salvo. Al bosque, a su abuela.

Ella te puede ayudar, ella te puede esconder de los demás, ella puede salvarte.

Mis padres son muy ignorantes, y no me importaría decirle eso. Voy a tener que irme a la medianoche, planeando a caminar al bosque. Probablemente regresaré un día cuando el ambiente esté a salvo. Pero todavía no es tiempo. Ellos tendrán que ir sin mí.

Mi madre me beso en la frente y cierra la puerta despacio, susurrando, “ Buenas noches, mi niña.”

Buenas noches ma,” yo susurre mientras el volumen de sus pasos disminuida, lágrimas quemando mis ojos. Pero no puedo pensar en el dolor ahorita. Estoy haciendo esto para protegerlos.

Mis padres no pudieron salvarme, pero yo puedo salvar los.

Yo mire al cielo oscuro - el sol va salir pronto. Me tengo que purar.

As the shadows lengthen, stretching out their dark grasp to ensnare those who dare wander this near to twilight, I close the door silently behind me. I pull on my riding cloak, the crimson hooded cape my father bought me when I was but a little girl. In the growing twilight it is a vivid red against the slowly darkening world around me, a bloodstain against an ink-stained page.

I close my eyes and shake away the thought of blood.

Just keep going, make it to the woods tonight, to grandma’s tomorrow.

I slip into the stables behind our house, quieting Pegasus, the white stallion I’ve ridden since I was a girl. He doesn't fight me as I mount him, not bothering with a saddle or reins. But I see the confusion, the fear in his dark black eyes.

“It’s okay, boy. We need to leave. We need to get to grandmother’s house, in the woods.” I whisper, stroking his silky white mane. “We need to get far away from home.”

I lead him out to the edge of the village. I can't help but look back, one last time, at the only home I’ve ever known. My family’s house, dark and still, as night’s silence begins to take hold.

Las sombras se marcaban más oscuro y largo, haciendo que su oscuridad atrapara a los que tienen el valor de caminar en crepúsculo, yo cierro la puerta silenciosamente. Hale mi capa de montar, la capa carmesí que mi padre me dio cuando era una niña joven. Crepúsculo creciendo más y más, hay en color rojo contra el mundo ocurriendo despacio alrededor de mi, una gota de sangre contra una página con tinta manchada.

Cierro mis ojos y sacudo el pensamiento de sangre.

Sigue con el plan, corre hacia el bosque esta noche, a la casa de mi abuela mañana.

Me fui detrás de mi casa, tratando de callar a Pegasus, el caballo blanco yo he monte cuando era niña.

“Esta bien chiquito, necesitamos irnos pronto. Necesitamos ir a la casa de abuela, en el bosque”, yo susurré mientras peinaba su pelo. “ Necesitamos irnos lejos de casa.”

Él y yo caminamos al pueblo. No puedo dejar de mirar atrás, a la casa que me dio todo y la única casa que yo he conocido.

“I will return. Grandma can help me. Evander will be able to protect us while she finds a cure for me.” I whisper to the winds. But somewhere, deep in my heart, something laughs at me. A deep, growling, mocking laugh.

There is no help for you.

The voice echoes in my mind, laughing at me, snarling and cruel, taunting me.

As quickly as it comes it is gone and I close my eyes. I can’t break, not now. I have to get into the woods, get to Grandma and Evander’s house. There is still hope.

With that, I turn my back on my home and ride away into the woods.

As the night wears on, Pegasus becomes more skittish. The shadows have taken the forest in their cold embrace and I can't help but try and stay in their arms, away from the light from the stars and the cloud ridden sky. Pegasus knickers, his head tossing.

“Woah, boy. Quiet. We’re almost there. We're so close.” I whisper, but the desperation in my voice is blaring.

“Regresaré un día. Mi abuela me puede ayudar. Evendar será capaz de protegernos mientras ella encuentre una cura para mí.” Susurre al viento. Pero en alguna parte, profundo en mi corazón, algo se está burlando de mi. Un profundo, gruñendo, risa burlona.

Aquí no hay ayuda para ti.

Las voces son como ecos en mi mente, burlándose de mí, gruñendo y cruel.

Tan rápido como viene se va y cierro los ojos. No puedo perder la mente, ahorita no es el tiempo. Lo que necesito hacer es entrar en el bosque, ir a la casa de abuela. Todavía hay esperanza. Con eso, le doy la espalda a mi casa y monto mi caballo hacia el bosque.

A medida que pasa la noche, Pegasus se vuelve más asustadizo. Las sombras han tomado el bosque en su frío abrazo y no puedo evitar tratar de permanecer en sus brazos, lejos de la luz de las estrellas y del cielo lleno de nubes. Bragas de Pegasus, la cabeza tirando.

“Woah, chico. Silencio. Ya casi hemos llegado. Estamos muy cerca.”

Le susurro, pero la desesperación en mi voz es bien clara.

But Pegasus is lost to me now. His dark eyes hold no recognition when he looks at me and he cries in fear at the sight of me. I try to calm him, try to keep my hold, but he throws me off in a fit of panic and flees into the woods, his white hide bright against the black set of the trees around me.

All alone, so far from home the voice sneers in my mind. It's behind my skull, throbbing in my head, my mind screaming.

“LEAVE ME ALONE!” I scream, but none hears. No one is listening. No one knows.

All alone, all alone.

I stumble to my feet, but the world is spinning around me, warping, twisting, the light from the sky getting brighter as the clouds part, as the sun dies, as all that is left is the full moon.

I try to run. But the laughing in my skull, in my mind, in my soul, is crescendoing, and I can’t escape it. I collapse to the forest floor, pain consuming me as the light embraces me with open arms. I fall into its embrace and all I can think is how close I was. How close I was to escape.

There is no escape.

Pero Pegasus se mira perdido para mí. Sus ojos oscuros no tienen reconocimiento cuando me mira y llora con miedo al verme. Trato de calmarlo, trato de mantener la calma, pero el me echa en un ataque de panico y huye al bosque, su piel blanca brillante contra el conjunto negro de los arboles que me rodean.

Solo, tan lejos de casa, la voz se burla en mi mente. Está detrás de mi cráneo, palpitando en mi cabeza, mi mente gritando.

“DÉJAME EN PAZ!” Grito, pero nadie oye. Nadie está escuchando. Nadie lo sabe.

Solo, Solo

Me tropiezo con mis pies, pero el mundo gira alrededor de mi, se deforma, se tuerce, la luz del cielo se hace más brillante a medida que se separan las nubes, a medida que muere el sol, ya que todo lo que queda es la luna llena.

Intento correr. Pero la risa en mi cráneo, en mi mente, en mi alma, está creciendo, y no puedo escapar de ella. Me derrumbo al suelo del bosque, el dolor me consume mientras la luz me abraza con los brazos abiertos. Caigo en su abrazo y todo lo que puedo pensar es lo cerca que estaba. Que tan cerca estaba de Escapar

No hay escape

This time the voice isn't in my head. It's in the air around me, it’s in the light, it's in the shadows of the forests. As my vision blurs and warps, I see shapes moving in the woods, eyes glinting crimson from amidst the trees. The sound of howling.

Then it’s quiet.

I stand. The hood falls from my shoulders and I stretch, my back arching, my bones singing, my mind alight.

Free.

I arch my head up to the sky, and the full moon shines on my face as I smile.

“Free,” I say, and the voice trapped in my skull is my own, my own snarl, my own growl, my own song to the blazing moon. “I am free at last.”

Esta vez la voz no está en mi cabeza. Está en el aire a mi alrededor, está en la luz, está en las sombras de los bosques. A medida que mi visión se desdibuja y se deforma, veo formas que se mueven en el bosque, los ojos brillan carmesí desde medio de los árboles.

El sonido del aullido

Después está tranquillo.

Me pongo de pie. La capucha se cae de mis hombros y me estiro, mi espalda arqueando, mis huesos cantando, mi mente encendida.

Libre Arqueo la cabeza hacia el cielo, y la luna llena brilla en mi cara mientras sonrío.

“Libre,” Digo, y la voz atrapada en mi cráneo es mía, mi propia canción a la luna ardiente. “ Por fin soy libre.”

Around me the forest is a world of shadows and light, and I can see every leaf, every groove in the bark of every tree for miles. The leaves quiver, as if afraid of me.

Good. Fear me.

A burning hunger gnaws at me from inside, clawing and scratching, a beast snarling to be fed. With one last song for the moon, I turn to the wild.

Let the hunt begin.

As I run, the woods part. They know their master, their predator, their beast. While Hunger may rule me, I rule the wild and the wood.

Squirrels and hares flee as I fly through the shadows and the light, but Hunger craves more than that. Hunger thirsts for blood. And I know where I can find blood. Brittle bones and aged flesh and fresh blood to quell the Hunger in my stomach, in my head, in my core, my spirit.

So I run, every bone in my body singing as I fly through the forest, free, free, FREE.

A mi alrededor, el bosque es un mundo de sombras y luz, y puedo ver cada hoja, cada surco en la corteza de cada árbol por kilómetros. Las hojas tiemblan, como si me tuvieran miedo.

Bien. Tememe

Un hambre ardiente me rocía desde adentro de mi, arañando y rascándose, una bestia gruñendo para ser alimentada. Con una última canción para la luna, me dirijo a la naturaleza.

Que comience la cacería

Mientras corro, el bosque se separa. Conocen a su maestro, a su depredador, a su bestia. Aunque el hambre puede gobernarme, yo gobierno lo salvaje y el bosque.

Ardillas y liebres agradables mientras vuelo a través de las sombras y la luz, pero el hambre anhela más que eso. El hambre tiene sed de sangre. Y se donde puedo encontrar sangre. Huesos británicos y carne envejecida y sangre fresca para sofocar el hambre en mi estomago, en mi cabeza, en mi núcleo, en mi espíritu.

Así que corro, cada hueso de mi cuerpo cantando mientras vuelo por el bosque, libre, libre, LIBRE.

Doors fall at my claws, as they tear through the wood like cloth. No walls can hold me now.

“Evander!” a voice cries. Something in the back of my mind, a small corner of my soul screams.

Don’t hurt them!

But I laugh. The Huntsman runs towards me, its gun in hand, the old woman behind it, hissing curses, words of magic under its breath.

Don’t hurt them!

And Hunger snarls with glee as I pounce, as my fangs rip the malleable flesh and brittle bone and the warm, fresh blood stains my dark pelt. As screams and desperate gunshots ring out, powerless, as the crunch of bone and the thrill of death flood my senses.

I am the wolf, and prey will fall.

Blood and bone, flesh and blood.

Prey falls, prey bleeds, prey dies.

I am the wolf, and prey will fall at my claw and fang.

“No.”

Las puertas caen a mis garras, mientras atraviesan la madera como tela. Ninguna pared puede sostenerme.

“!Evamder!” Una voz llora. Algo en el fondo de mi mente, un pequeño rincón de mi alma.

“!No les hagas daño-!”

Pero me río, el cazador corre hacia mí, su arma en la mano, la anciana detrás de ella silbando maldiciones, palabras de magia en voz baja.

“!¡No les hagas daño!”

“No.”

Y el hambre gruñe de alergia mientras me abalanza. Mis colmillos arrancan la carne maleable y el hueso quebradizo y la sangre caliente y fresca mancha mi piel oscura. Mientras resuenan los gritos y los disparos desesperados, impotente, el crujido del hueso y la emoción de la muerte inundad mis sentidos.

Yo soy el lobo y la presa caerá

Sangre y hueso, carne y sangre

La presa cae, la presa sangra, la presa muere. .

Yo soy el lobo, y la presa caerá en mi garra y colmillo.

Dear,

Mr Sheriff,

I have reason to believe the wolf has found his way back into the prairies and woods around the village. I overheard some citizens saying they saw someone or something snooping around in the woods. I have not seen them around town in quite a few days, since they told me about the sighting. The local farmers have had a few sheep and goats come up missing. I am beginning to fear he has returned. There are children that run around and play in the prairie and I shudder to think what will happen to the parents, or the town, if the children went missing.

For obvious reasons, many citizens of the village are unaware of these sightings. I am hopeful, though, that if we do more investigation with these sightings we may catch the wolf and do away with him once and for all. One boy already cried wolf, so I dare say that time is of the essence with these proceedings. Last time, the wolf only targeted our sheep but that doesn’t mean we will be so lucky this time. The wolf may have a better plan than last time. I am asking you to issue a curfew and take these sightings seriously. We have a rare second chance here, Sheriff. We can ’t waste it.

Sincerely,

Concerned Citizen

From The office of Sheriff Brown Bear

Attention: Big Bad Wolf

It has been reported to my office that you are back in town and I have issued an order for you to be arrested on sight. No one in this village has forgotten the many crimes you committed against the Three Little Pigs. You are still wanted on two counts of murder, destruction of private property, and one count of attempted murder. You failed to report to your court date and no one has heard from you since the incident. You have taken two lives which are irreplaceable and you attempted to take another. You have caused great pain to the loved ones of the Three Little Pigs and have caused the oldest of the Pig brothers to go insane.

You have shocked the peaceful forest with these killings. We have heard the so-called justifications from other wolves: “He was just hungry,” “He has had a terrible life,” and “He needs mental help.” But there is no excuse to go on a rampage, destroying homes and lives. There are many in town calling for your head, especially after the history of violence in your bloodline. The older members of the town still whisper about the violence that occurred between your grandfather and the Riding-Hood family. I strongly urge you, to save yourself and clear the name of wolves as a species, turn yourself in immediately. Otherwise, we will be forced to bring you in by any means necessary.

What is a Name to a Title?

Grant Daniels

What is a name to a title? From the first dawn of your beginning to the last light of your finale, the one thing you carry is your name. But a title, a title isn’t bestowed on you at birth. A title is earned, through combat, triumph, defeat, and word of mouth. A title clings to you like a parasite, leeching your self worth and draining you until you're molded into a hollow vessel. A title is shaped, like clay, by the words and actions of others. Often the molding process of a title ignited a burning hatred in me. I flame within myself, like a charring kiln; the cindering flames that I am currently tending to were that of a flaming cauldron laid by those three dreaded pigs.

My stomach growls and groans as I wander here through the forest. The pain, of my lacerations and lesions, lashes out at me unmercifully. Suffering, even now, is a solitary act. I am the big bad wolf, after all. I am the monster of the forest. The primal beast that survives on the terror of innocent forest creatures. My eyes wander back to the velvet trail. My stead stands alone now on the path paved with dread and sorrow. The irony of my life leading here is not lost on me. I have become exactly what was prophesied, despite my fighting.

Crimson blotches stain my fur. My blotches have been painted by the thickets and thorns, spread widely throughout the forest. The shades of red bring back to me the memory of a young girl. One so full of life and going off to visit her grandmother. Her flesh wasn’t appealing, but she was the only option I had in the midst of my famine. I shudder at the blasphemous names she called me that day. When I close my eyes, I can still hear them at this moment. Her voice rings in my mind and reminds me that I am only acknowledged in this world when there is a gloom of fear. Her screams are a cruel reminder that my name is only worth muttering when preceded by my blasphemous title, and only for the use of scaring children around campfires or before bed.

Tears now find my face. This title was an injustice, truly. To be branded as this beast by the humans, whilst they plunder the forest that so many call home, is laughable. They paint the large oaks with long pasture land. They play in useless pleasantries, all while we are genocided by plight and disparity. They forced me to become to face of terror, by taking myl home and leaving me with no option but the enter theirs. My vision begins to wane, and I am beginning to hear distant calls beckoning to me “Wolf…..Wolf..”

The calls echo and bring back the dreary memory of the boy. The one who cried my name and refused to believe it when I appeared. That boy that had so mockingly used my name to trick the townsfolk and disturb the locals of the forest. I dreaded killing the boy, but he called again and left me no choice. The true horror didn’t come from his screams as he was mutilated. No! The horror came from the cheers and remarks of his neighbors that watched. One of their own was being taken up from the land of the living and all they did was point and laugh. There was no compassion or pity in their expressions. They did not care about the toll this attack was taking on me. It was sickening. They were sickening.

The calls grow louder, and louder. In the distance, I see the dark forest being illuminated. The light searches each crevice of the flora beside me. And now my eyes widen as I see it. For the first time in my life, in the life of the Big Bad Wolf, I let out a single whimper. It carries, as a whisper, in the wind around me, and the wind whispers back a single word: Silas. It is not a title, but a name. Content, I let the seraphim carry me away, leaving behind a puddle of blood and tears, and unkempt fears alongside my unspoken name.

Unspoken Embers

Story by: Connor Haley

Translation By: Tania Turcios-Navarrete

Illustrations By: MaryPayton

Rogers

Taking the final jump to the ground, Sir Timothy looked up and saw his final destination ahead of him. He had traveled far and wide to reach this place, on a mission from the king himself. That dragon kidnapped the princess and was holding her hostage. It was Sir Timothy’s sole duty to kill the dragon and save the princess.

Before walking the cobble-stoned path to the mouth of the dragon’s cave, Sir Timothy checked that his silver armor was still fastened and that his sword, forged from the tears of the moon, was still properly sheathed at his side. He took a deep breath, and started towards the ominous entrance of the dragon’s lair.

As Sir Timothy crossed the threshold into the cave, everything became dark. He felt a drop in his stomach and thought about turning back to the safety of daylight. He had always been afraid of the dark, believing that the only things you can trust is what you can see for yourself. He seriously doubted his resolve, but remembered that he kept a torch with him, just for situations like these. He fumbled for it, but eventually found it, struck it hard against the cave wall until it lit, and continued on.

After what felt like hours of wandering, Sir Timothy came to a torchlit room. He could hear the dragon roaring just around the corner. He could also hear the quiet sobs of the princess. He ran in pursuit of the sounds. When he got there, he was met with a terrifying sight.

Dando el salto final al suelo, Sir Timothy observó hacia arriba y miro su destino final frente a él. Había viajado por todas partes para llegar a este lugar, en una misión del propio rey. Ese dragón había secuestrado a la princesa y la tenía como rehén. El único deber de sir Timothy era asesinar al dragón y salvar a la princesa.

Antes de caminar por el camino empedrado hacia la entrada de la cueva del dragón, sir Timothy comprobó que su armadura plateada todavía estaba abrochada y que su espada, forjada con las lágrimas de la luna, todavía estaba debidamente envainada a su costado. Respiró hondo y se dirigió hacia la siniestra entrada de la guarida del dragón.

Cuando Sir Timothy cruzó el umbral de la cueva, todo se oscureció. Sintió una caída en el estómago y pensó en regresar a la seguridad de la luz del día. Siempre le había tenido miedo a la oscuridad, creyendo que lo único en lo que puedes confiar es en lo que puedes ver por ti mismo. Dudó seriamente de su resolución, pero recordó que llevaba una antorcha con él, solo para situaciones como esta. Lo empezó a buscar, y finalmente lo encontró, lo golpeó con fuerza contra la pared de la cueva hasta que se encendió y continuó.

Después de lo que parecieron horas de vagar, sir Timothy llegó a un cuarto iluminado con antorchas. Podía escuchar al dragón rugiendo a la vuelta de la esquina. También podía escuchar los silenciosos sollozos de la princesa. Corrió en busca de sonidos. Cuando llegó allí, se encontró con una vista aterradora.

The dragon towered over him. It was three times his size and had blood, red scales running all along its body. Its claws looked sharp enough to cleave a kingdom in half, and its tail dripped with poison. Black smoke was still seeping out of its mouth when Sir Timothy’s boots clanged against a rock. The dragon turned its head toward the sound and focused its hazy eyes on the knight.

“What are you doing here, boy?” the dragon boomed. “Get out!"

The threat in the dragon’s voice gave Sir Timothy a chill, but he was on a mission to save the princess. He stared down the dragon and unsheathed his sword, which reflected the glow of the flames back into the dragon’s irises. The dragon’s eyes stayed trained on the sword and it looked warily upon it.

“What are you doing with the knife, little guy?” the dragon asked, a hint of confusion in his voice. “Put that down so no one gets hurt.”

Sir Timothy scoffed; he was not going to fall for that trick. The dragon knew what he had done, and nothing could change Sir Timothy’s mind now. He was going to drive the sword through the hide of the dragon, if it was the last thing he did. Sir Timothy charged the dragon, brandishing his sword. The dragon whipped his head towards the knight, and the princess screamed. Blazing fire erupted from its mouth and pursued Sir Timothy with incredible speed. The dragon’s aim was poor and Sir Timothy was able to move out of the way, but not before feeling the heat singe the hairs on his arms.

El dragón se elevó sobre él. Era tres veces más grande que él y tenía sangre, escamas rojas recorriendo todo su cuerpo. Sus garras parecían lo suficientemente afiladas como para partir un reino por la mitad, y su cola goteaba veneno. Aún salía humo negro de su boca cuando las botas de sir Timothy resonaron contra una roca. El dragón retrocedió la cabeza hacia el sonido y enfocó sus ojos borrosos en el caballero.

"¿Qué haces aquí, muchacho?" el dragón rugió. "¡Fuera!"

La amenaza en la voz del dragón le dio escalofríos a Sir Timothy, pero él estaba en una misión para salvar a la princesa. Miró al dragón y sacó su espada, que reflejó el brillo de las llamas en los iris del dragón. Los ojos del dragón permanecieron fijos en la espada y la miró cautela con

"¿Qué estás haciendo con el cuchillo, pequeño?" preguntó el dragón, con una pizca de confusión en su voz. "Deja eso para que nadie salga lastimado".

Sir Timothy se burló, él no iba a caer en ese truco. El dragón sabía lo que había hecho, y nada podría cambiar la mente de Sir Timothy.. Iba a clavar la espada a través de la piel del dragón, aunque fuera la última vez. Sir Timothy cargó contra el dragón, blandiendo su espada. El dragón giró su cabeza hacia el caballero, y la princesa gritó. Un fuego llameante brotó de su boca y persiguió a Sir Timothy con una velocidad increíble. La puntería del dragón era pobre y Sir Timothy fue capaz de apartarse del camino, pero no sin antes sentir que lo caliente chamusque el pelo de sus brazos.

The knight reached the dragon and thrust his sword straight into the dragon’s heart. It was easier than he had anticipated; he had expected the scales to block him, but it felt more like cutting through blubber. The dragon let out a roar and fell to the ground, defeated.

Timothy looked up from the crimson body of the dragon to see the princess in tears. He ran over to embrace her, but she met him with a flinch. She stood there, crying into her hands, for several moments before speaking to Sir Timothy.

“Oh God, what have you done?” She looked up from her hands and he didn’t see the princess at all; he saw the face of his mother.

“Mom?” Sir Timothy asked, but she just sobbed. He noticed that she was staring at the spot where he had slain the dragon. But when he followed her gaze, it wasn’t a dragon he saw there.

“Dad?” Sir Timothy called, but his father remained motionless and silent.